Peace in Pieces
by TheAthenianLife
Summary: How does one insure peace between grounders and the Ark after Mount Weather? Lexa and Clarke must make an alliance. CLEXA
1. The Proposal

SPOILERS AU were Clarke didn't run away at the end of season 2. **Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

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A week after Mount Weather, Clarke opened the flap to Lexa's tent not knowing what to expect. There had been no conflicts since the—since Mount Weather, but there was no way that peace would hold for long. She had fought and fought to delay this mission. _They had to get the 44 well again. They had to see what supplies could be scavenged from the mountain. The chancellor should be the one to discuss treaties._ None of them held. She was the one who had to go, the grounders saw her as the leader. No one else would do. Every day that passed was also one more day closer to something that could start another war.

"Clarke." She pretended she didn't hear the commander's whisper from her throne as she bent into a stiff bow. The guards from the ark followed, her. Today was a peace discussion, formalities must be followed.

"Commander, you are well."

Lexa seemed to have gained her composure. "As I trust you are. We have not expected a visit." Her war-paint was gone, as good a sign as any Clarke could find. Indra was a statue behind her _Heda_ , hand resting on her sword.

"I came in hopes of finding a more _permanent_ treaty for peace." Clarke nearly growled. The guards tensed, both hers and Lexa's. What was the point of being here? The commander's word was worth less than her spit. No treaty would last, but a delay still meant lives saved. At least for a little while.

Lexa did not say anything for a long time. "That may not be possible." She finally breathed.

Clarke clenched her fists to keep from lunging at the woman. "What more do you need to give a simple order to your people?"

Indra drew her sword. Lexa shot her hand up, forcing her back. "It is not a simple order. My people have lost a great many to the Skaikru. They have lost a great many to the mountain as well. Now with your machines and your control of the reapers, you are not so different in their minds."

"You have killed how many people of the Ark!"

"I did not say it was solely on your hands!" Clarke began to pace, Lexa watching her each step. "I want peace as much as you do, Clarke. Trikru, however, calls for blood."

"Then make them stop calling you—"

"Clarke!" Lexa shot up from her chair cutting her off. She knew Clarke understood the ways of her people. Blood must have blood.

"They have had their blood. How much more do they need?"

" _Heda,_ " Indra laid her hand on the back of the throne, finally letting her sword swing loosely at her side.

" _Ai will nou_!" She hissed back.

"Heda, it is the only way." Lexa sank back into her chair. "Peace is peace. War is war. Chose."

"Who is the commander here?" Lexa almost screamed back at her general, chest heaving. "Leave us." She said after a while.

"My guard stays." Clarke demanded.

"I said we must be alone!"

Clarke had never seen such a huge storm of emotion inside of one person all at once. The force of Lexa's storm nearly hit her in the gut. "Stay by the entrance. No one come in or out without my say so. Do not disturb us for two minutes. Past that, come in with guns at the ready." Clarke ordered her troops out with Indra's without taking her eyes off the commander. Once they were finally gone, she took a step closer to Lexa. "What is this treaty?"

"Blood must have blood. The only way around spilling it is to share it." Lexa conceded.

Clarke stared at her bewildered, after all they had done at the mountain she want to share—"Marriage. A marriage alliance."

"That is what your people call it."

"You can't be serious." She scoffed. Lexa didn't respond. "First you kiss me to get me to trust you just so you can turn around and—"

"That kiss was real!"

"I don't give a damn what it was!" Clarke heaved. "There is no other way to agree to a peace?"

"None Trikru will respect."

Clarke ran her hand through her hair. This was too much. "I will talk to Lincoln and Octavia today."

Lexa shook her head. "It cannot be them."

"You have no right!"

"I have every right to save as many of the lives of both our people as possible! Lincoln is more Sky Person than Trikru now, and too low in rank besides. It must be us Clarke."

"This is how you win a girl over? _Marry me or my army will kill everyone you love_." Lexa tried not to notice how that left her out of the "everyone."

"This is not how I would have preferred it, but what is a ceremony next to lives?"

The tent flaps burst open and the Ark guard surged in, their guns all trained on Lexa. "Don't." Was all she needed to say for them to lower their weapons. "We shall have this ceremony. For those we love."

"For those we love."


	2. The Wedding

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"You look beautiful honey." Clarke didn't respond to her mother. Wrapped in swaths of spring green, hair braided back like a grounder, and black paint shielding her eyes, she felt more like she was marching down a battle field instead of an altar. At least she didn't have to wear white. There was nothing pure left in her anymore.

"Heda is waiting." Indra poked her head into Lexa's room, which she had loaned to Clarke to prepare for the ceremony.

Clarke nodded for her mother to go take her place in the audience. "I am coming." She exited into the long pathway, lined by Arkian and grounder alike, in complete silence. Not one person spoke. Some smiled at her, some glared, some nodded approval, but it didn't matter anymore. She was to be their Heda Houmon, and Lexa a citizen of the Ark. The bitch didn't deserve it.

Lexa stood at an altar made of carved tree trunks, surrounded by the leaders of the coalition. Their blessing was needed to officiate a marriage of this proportion. If one of them spoke out, they would not leave Polis alive, but neither would any person of the Ark most likely.

Lexa tried to smile at her as she came up across from her, but Clarke did not return the favor. She was in the same green Clarke was, her paint done in swirls instead of her usual lines. _Murderer._ Clarke reminded herself.

The officiant took their hands so each grasped each other at the elbow, and laced two thin silk ribbons, one black, one white around them, tying them together.

The entire ceremony took place in Trigedasleng. Cheers went up at certain points, but for the most part, the people around them watched in grim quiet. At one point, the leader of each part of the coalition bowed in front them, only rising after Lexa nodded for them to rise. "Mochcof." Clarke learned she had to say it with her before the leaders would leave them for the next to come.

Finally, Clarke thought the ceremony would end, when Lexa started to lean in. She took a step back her eyes widening. She tried to slap her, but only managed to jerk their still bound hands. A shudder went through the crowd. Lexa glared into her eyes, until at last Clarke didn't move as she pressed her soft lips to hers. _They are only soft because she waters them with blood._ Clarke pulled away as quickly as she could without disturbing the onlookers.

Lexa grinned stupidly at her, but it vanished as soon as she saw Clarke's look and led her back to the brides' room. The audience parted around them, cheering and screaming as if they were oblivious to the tension between the newlyweds.

As soon as they were alone, Clarke turned and shoved Lexa into the wall, pinning her. "How dare you embarrass me like that?"

"It is a wedding, what did you expect to happen?" She shook her head almost like she was disappointed in her. "If this union is not honor in every way, at least in their eyes," she jerked her head to where the wedding audience could still be heard mingling, "then the truce will not be honored either. One kiss to save both our peoples." How was Clarke being so childish?

She let her go and stalked off to a chair in the corner, flumping down. Any fantasies she had as a child about her magical wedding day were long gone. "They expect us to consummate the union." Lexa broke her out of her daze.

"You can't be serious. I don't fuck traitors."

Lexa took a deep breath, letting the hit sink in. And moaned. Oh god, that _moan_. Clarke's eyes bulged. What was she doing? She knocked over a bowl resting on the table and took a serious of short shallow breaths. She moaned again. And again. And "yes!" And "uh-uh oh!" Until she finally let herself scream Clarke's name until she could feel in in her very bones.

They were both quiet for a long moment after her show as Clarke stared at the girl in bewilderment. "We have a few minutes," Lexa whispered, "then we will be expected out there again."

"What did you just—"

"I told you the union must be consummated or it won't hold. I was not going to force myself on you." She knelt in front on Clarke. "You are my wife, my _houmon_. I will protect you with my life. If you will not be mine, I will be yours. We must go through the motions for a while longer." She laid her hand on top of Clarke's, but the girl nudged it away. "Stay three weeks, then an excuse can be made for your absence. If it is what you desire, we shall be married in name only." She bit her lip almost as if she was begging Clarke to not say what they both knew she was going to.

"What is it you desire?"

"Do not be the one to embarrass me now." Lexa breathed. "You know very well what it is I desire. But as I said, I am yours"


	3. The Feast

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The feast already seemed to be in full swing by the time they exited the brides' room, hand in hand. The crowd exploded. Catcalls and cheers, whoops and congratulations overwhelmed Clarke. "A hunt!" Lexa announced over the roar, "to honor my new wife!" She drew her sword and marched off into the woods, people of the Ark, and Trikru alike following her.

After a long time of swimming through people trying to bow to her, congratulate her, and honor her with gifts, Clarke finally found the place Lexa had had set up for her, a throne to the right of her own. She collapsed down into it, not quite comfortable with the message it sent, but also desperate for a place to sit.

Octavia broke away from a dance with Lincoln and rushed up to her when she saw her. She launched herself on one knee. "Heda Houmon."

"Please don't, Octavia. I have had enough today." Clarke ran her hand through her still-braided hair.

"So I've heard." Octavia chuckled. Clarke barely managed to hide her blush with a killing glare. "Sorry."

Clarke dropped her voice to a whisper. "What did I agree to today?" Octavia looked at her, puzzled. "What was in those vows?"

"A marriage."

"What else?" Clarke pressed.

"Nothing, they were standard. To take her sorrow as your sorrow. Her joy as your joy. Clarke, she may have made a bad decision a Mount Weather, a very bad decision, but she is your wife now. You have to learn to trust her."

"I do not have to do anything." Octavia turned to go. Clarke grabbed her by the arm. "Wait. I'm sorry. Thank you."

"We have all slaughtered Clarke. And no matter what she has done, no one can fake how she looks when you're around." She left to go back to Lincoln, leaving Clarke alone again to take each well-wisher with smiles and "thank you"s mindlessly.

Lexa had at last lost the rest of the hunting party. Besides a few twigs breaking off in the distance, she wouldn't even have known there was another person within fifty miles. Luckily, neither would they.

She settled down in the base of a massive hollowed out tree trunk, unstrapping her sword belt and curling up on the bed of pine needles. She had started coming here when she was a little girl, new to the responsibilities of being commander. She hadn't been back since she had lost Costia.

That seemed like such a long time ago, before the Sky People came. Before she had met Clarke. Before any of this had ever happened. Now she was a married woman. Now she was married to a woman who could make her heart fly into her throat and make her forget to breathe with just a look. Now she was married to a woman who could not even stand the sight of her. And she was right.

How cruel was she? She could abandon dozens of people in a mountain to be tortured. She could force a girl to into marriage who would never feel a lick of affection for her. Was she so selfish? Because yes, she did fantasize of waking up by Clarke's side, their arms wrapped around each other. About running her fingers through those perfect blond waves. And once in a while, even about cradling a tiny child between them, laughing and giggling as they tickled its little stomach.

But those thoughts had to die. That could not happen in this world. Not to her. She was the commander. She bore the weight of an entire nation, and she would hold it. She was born to do this, and she would.

She curled tighter inside her tree trunk, clutching her knees to her chest. Her breath came short, and her eyes started to well, but she made no sound as she let the emotion leak out of her.

She stayed there as long as she could, past dark, past when she knew the hunting party would have headed back. Any longer and she would have been suspect. She unwrapped herself from her cocoon, checking to make sure no tear tracked stained her paint in the clear pool next to her hideout and marched back into Polis with a grin on her face and a swagger in her step.

Lexa was right. When she made her way to the head of the feat table next to Clarke, the food was already served. "A lost arrow." She muttered as an excuse. Clarke grunted, but didn't say anything, turning back to her mother.

She laughed with her generals and even drank some of the wine the Ark had given as a wedding gift, until the horn sounded for her and Clarke to rise. The marriage was already official in every since, at least to the public's knowledge, but now was the time for what Lexa had always imagined to be the most romantic part of the marriage ceremony.

The Trikru believed sleeping, actually _sleeping_ , beside someone was the biggest show of trust one could ever show. All defenses were down, each person was completely vulnerable to the other, and they went on that way, completely comfortable with each other's presence.

That was not the way it happened on this wedding night. Clarke grabbed her hand as they again walked down the parting aisle of bodies, but she was stiff, her grip too tight. At least she had agreed to keep up the ruse.

In the brides' room, Lexa did not utter a word, letting Clarke keep her quiet. She sat by the fire, pretending to read until Clarke's breath evened into a sleep. Looking at her, she was so perfect. So strong, but so obviously breakable. So beautiful. Each curve of her face exactly placed. Each little scar a mark proving her bravery.

Lexa took her cloak off the hook by the door. Three weeks. She had three weeks of this torture of seeing but never touching, and then…She had no idea if Clarke's complete absence would be better or worse than this pain. Could she ever go back to pretending she didn't feel the way she did?

She wrapped the cloak around herself, finding a spot on the carpet below her throne _. When Clarke was ready._ She told herself. _If Clarke is ever ready._


	4. The Honeymoon

*Thank you to all my reviewers* Disclaimer: if I got any of the grounder spiritual stuff wrong I'm sorry. As of right now only episodes up to s3:e2 are released.

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Lexa was strapping on the last of her armor when she heard Clarke roll over and groan. "Good morning."

Clarke sat up with another grunt. "Morning." Not fully awake, not fully remembering everything that had happened, Clarke let her heart flutter just the tiniest bit at Lexa's tanned face smiling softly down at her, still bare of paint.

"There is something," Lexa bit her lip, wondering if she should even go through with this, "I wished to give you yesterday." She plucked the little golden circlet off the table. "I heard it was your custom, to give rings when you are married." She held it out towards her. Clarke just stared at it like a foreign being. "It was my great grandmother's, before the bombs. I hope you will wear it."

Clarke didn't know what to do. It was beautiful, two tiny gold threads twisting together, holding up a single shinning pearl in the middle. Of course, there were nicks and scars in the metal, but they seemed to make it shine even brighter.

Lexa took her hand back, placing the ring back in its little drawer. "I'm sorry, it was a stupid idea." She turned her back, wiping her hands on her skirt.

"I could have killed you. Last night. There was nothing stopping me." Clarke stated, void of emotion.

"But you didn't." Lexa couldn't look at her.

"I could have, then this would all be over."

"No it wouldn't. You aren't so stupid." She busied herself with strapping on her sword belt. "My spirit would travel into the newborn baby. Then there would be nothing to stop the generals to declare war on all of Skaikru as principal would mandate them."

"I would no longer be your wife."

"If the end of our union was worth that many lives to you, you would not have married me in the first place."

"I can make mistakes."

"We can all make mistakes." Lexa bit back, harsher than she wished. "It won't do for you to spend the day in here. You must make an appearance outside. Visit the healer's. I don't know. Just please, don't spend the day in here alone."

"Fine." Clarke got up and made her way to the little breakfast Lexa had sent for earlier.

"I must go meet with generals to discuss tomorrow's meeting before we decide the terms of the new peace."

"Okay." Clarke shrugged, picking at the collection of fruit.

They went on like that for the next week. Barely talking except when mandated by public appearance. The peace talks went fine. No grounder would enter Arkadia without permission, and no Sky Person would enter any grounder village without invitation. Other than that, they were to be treated as one people. Clarke kept herself busy in what functioned as Polis's makeshift hospital, training what healers she could in CPR, learning more uses for different herbs.

Every night, Lexa would come back after Clarke was asleep, curl up on the carpet, and rise before she woke. Each time, she let Clarke's sweet soft snores lull her back to sleep. Allowing herself imagine, in the tiniest moments where her self-control was weakest just before sleep over took her, that perhaps she really was right next to her, their breath stirring each other's hair.

In one meeting, she was surrounded by her generals and Abby discussing how to divide work assignment for a new road between Arkadia and Polis to make trade and transport easier. "We need this route open as much as you, but we cannot spare the people. We barely have enough to gather enough food to feed everyone." Abby argued back.

"I understand, but should not the division of labor be equal among those baring the benefits?" Lexa tried to reason with her mother in law. Clarke had been left out of this debate. Her mother and she seemed to figure out that the chancellor would take care of the small things while Clarke could handle the peace as a whole.

"Yes, but you must see—"

" _Nou mou_!" The Azgeda queen growled. " _Ai ni nou hukop, ni com disha kru_!"

Lexa threw her to the ground without hesitation. "I am _Heda_ , and I will not tolerate your obstinacy." She laid her fist into the queen's jaw. "The Skaikru are my people now. And therefore they are your people. You _will_ show respect." Lexa spat into her face, getting off her to resume the meeting. No one said anything against the Sky People.

When they at last let out, Lexa made clear to Indra she was to go for a ride along the Trikru and Skaikru border. She could have easily ordered an underling to do the same job, but she needed the space. Her mare's hooves pounding into the rain softened mud wasn't enough though to clear her head and she found herself close to her hideout in the massive tree before she recognized she had changed course.

Marriage or no, she didn't know if there could ever be real peace between her people anymore. The hatred already ran deep, and they had only been here little over a year.

"LEXA!" Clarke's voice reverberated inside the hollow trunk, ringing in her ears. Should she respond or simply let her go on, leaving her be? No, she would find her horse. Better not to let word spread that she had gone missing.

"I'm here." She uncurled herself from her ball, trying to keep some semblance of dignity.

"Lexa where are you?" Clarke called again, only a few feet from her.

"Down here." Lexa almost chuckled.

Clarke caught her, and jumped from her horse. "My mother told me what you did in the meeting." Lexa nodded. "Don't you think that could only lead to more problems?"

"The Azgeda queen has always been obstinate. It is not the first time I have had to put her in her place."

Clarke settled down on the side of the trunk, not venturing into the hollow. "Thank you." She said after a while.

"Your people _are_ my people now, Clarke. Just as the grounders are now yours." Lexa stared ahead at the still water. How she longed to be a still and lovely as that.

"I know." Clarke glanced down at her hands. Lexa followed her gaze. Twinkling on her finger was the pearl. Clarke saw her eyes widen in surprise. "I thought, I thought the people of the Ark would be more accepting of the union with it."

"Of course." Lexa agreed, even as she felt her heart sink as the tiny surge of hope leaked out of her. "For the treaty."


	5. The Union

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"Lexa?" Clarke rolled over in the middle of the night. Another nightmare. At least she had been able to wake herself up from this one.

"Mmm?" She grunted.

"What are you doing over there?" Clarke squinted to see her form curled at the base of her throne. Shreds of light leaked in from the fires in the city, but only the vague outline of body remained visible.

"I _was_ sleeping."

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Clarke, can we please talk about this in the morning?" She wasn't up for yet another conversation of why they had to pretend to be a happy couple.

She thought she had gone back to sleep when Clarke whispered almost like she didn't want her to hear, "Come to bed. It is big enough for the both of us."

"Clarke…"

"It's getting colder, you'll freeze over there."

"I have blankets."

"Fine." Clarke snapped. "I'm too tired to fight right now. Do what you like." She didn't expect her to do anything. Perhaps she finally had pushed her away enough that she _didn't_ care anymore. But soon enough she heard a sign and a rustle as Lexa got to her feet. Clarke almost bounced in the air as Lexa flopped her weight down beside her, yelping in surprise. She couldn't be sure, but Clarke could have sworn she heard Lexa let out a tiny giggle before she stifled it completely.

Clarke scooted herself as close to the wall as she could get, leaving a wide gaping space between them. Lexa didn't seem to notice, but she did keep to the other edge, only her hand tossed behind her into the no-man's land.

Staring at that thin and calloused hand, Clarke didn't know how long passed before a honking snore started, even louder than it had been when she was sleeping across the room. It was beginning to be comforting. A little noise to scare away the demons that whispered in the dark quiet.

Shivering from something other than cold, Clarke did not fall back to sleep that night. Alternately staring at the ceiling willing her body to ignore the fiery presence so close to her, to ignore the warm that enticed her closer, and watching the little traitorous hand that twitched in a dream. Every so often, when she couldn't take it anymore, inching her own fingers closer. Just to see what it felt like. Were they as deliciously rough as she remembered? Worn from a million sword swings, could they still send those shots down her nerves system, letting her entire brain feel nothing but that?

Suddenly, there was barely an inch separating their skin. A centimeter. A millimeter. Nothing. Hardly anything at all, but something. The smallest brush of pinkies, the ridges and falls of her fingerprint all too apparent. Her stomach about to go into her own throat—

"Heda!" Indra exploded in. Lexa lunged to her feet, her sword bare before she could process who it was. "My apologies Heda. I was not aware…you must forgive me…"

"It is fine. What time is it? I am afraid I must have slept in."

"Nearly seven thirty. Luna from Floukru is here to see you."

"Yes. I'll be there in five minutes. Let me dress. Give her my apologies. I had a late night last night."

Indra glanced at Clarke conspicuously, causing her to blush, before answering, "Of course Heda."

Lexa rushed around, attaching bits of her armor. She wasn't expecting to fight, but the commander must never be without it. Slashing on her paint as best she could, she managed to inhale a piece of bread she had left out the night before.

Clarke felt an odd need to apologize, watching her frantic scrambling. "I'm sorry. I could have woken you up."

"You didn't know." Lexa mumbled through a mouthful of starch. She swolled. "It's probably be best if you got dressed too. Houmons usually sit in on some meetings with their Hedas."

Clarke nodded. It wouldn't be a terrible thing. "How come," she suddenly wondered, "I am the Heda Houmon and you are the Heda? I am leader of the Ark in my own right just like you have the grounders."

Lexa dropped her bread, turning slowly to face Clarke. "You would do well not to ask that question in front of anyone but myself."

"It's fine. I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"It's okay." Lexa sighed, and came to sit next to Clarke on the mattress, careful not to touch her. "It's just, my people are quite sensitive about the topic of their commander. I was chosen by the gods, generations back, to lead them. That is not a title that will ever change for me. On my first breath, I was Heda, as I will be on my last. If the Ark is having problems with—"

"No, it wasn't serious. I just thought—do you really believe that? That you are the reincarnation of…" Clarke didn't know what to call it.

"I do not believe, that if there were any gods, that they would not have let me make the mistakes I have." Clarke glanced down at her palm, quietly laying her own on top of it, before she could talk herself out of it. Lexa stiffened in surprised, but relaxed immediately into her touch. "We are equals, Clarke." She took a deep breath, the Floukru forgotten. "Anya told me once when I was her second, that we are not who we were born, or what we have done, but what we will do. I hope that is true. I hope you will believe that is true. For both our sakes."

Lexa peered down into Clarke's eyes, flicking her gaze down to her lips as Clarke mimicked her.

"Heda, excuse me," Lexa cursed internally but got up all the same as Indra barged in again. She would have to see what she could do about her guards letting _everyone_ in. "But you know that Luna is not a patient woman."

"I am aware, however you must know that I am not one to be nagged by chief. I will be there in a second." It was harsher than need-be, but at the moment, her irritation did not bode well for anyone.

Indra didn't say anything else before she scampered out of the room, like a chastised dog. "Do come and meet me if you can. Luna hasn't met you other than at the wedding. A good relationship with her would be useful for the Ark and the coalition." Clarke nodded, slightly piffed herself, though she wasn't sure if it was at herself or Indra.

"I'll see you in a few. A guard will bring in breakfast." Without thinking, Lexa brushed her lips on the top of Clarke's head, immediately recognizing her mistake. She jumped back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—I wasn't trying to push—I didn't think just because—I don't mean—I'll just—I'll go." She raced out of the room, leaving Clarke confused by herself.


	6. The Truth

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"What did you do?" Clarke groaned in the smoky infirmary as Bellamy lugged with Octavia draped across him for support.

"Not—mmm," Octavia grimaced as her brother lifted her up onto the table, "a big deal."

Her entire side was caked in mud and blood, tiny scrapes lashing the rest of her body. "She took on a Floukru guard who was three times her size." Bellamy explained.

"Like I said," She winced again as Clarke tried to lift her clothing from her sticking skin, "not a big deal."

"If not fatal means not a big deal, then I guess you're right, but you won't be on your feet for another week."

"But Indra—"

"Shut up and let me find a needle. You need stiches." She pushed her gently back onto the bench. Stylization was hard in Polis, though she had at least been able to enlist Monty in suppling some alcohol for her when he wasn't using it for _other_ purposes. "Thank you Bellamy, for bringing her."

He nodded, "I gotta get back to the guard. I'll see you around."

Clarke finally managed to get Octavia's shirt over the wound. It wouldn't be fatal, she had been right, so long as it didn't get infected. She hadn't lost as much blood as she had thought at first glance even, and though it was long, the blade had managed to not go very deep. She doused a slash of moonshine onto it. Octavia screamed, nearly leaping off the table and only making the pain worse.

"You deserved it, stupid." Clarke muttered, giving a needle the same treatment.

"Did not."

"Then please explain," she jabbed the metal into Octavia' skin without warning. It was better when you didn't see it coming, "what on earth possessed you to do that."

"He said—ah stop that!"

"Still your fault you're here." She sang.

"He was talking about—hsss—you like a criminal." Octavia admitted, trying to catch Clarke's eye.

"You people and defending my honor." She stabbed the thread through again. "Besides, are you so sure he's wrong?" Her voice quieted.

Octavia stayed silent while she let Clarke finish up the last two stitches. "I am not the one you need to be having that conversation with, but yeah I am." She sat up, attempting to hide her grimace. "How are you two doing anyways?"

Clarke busied herself tidying the equipment. Octavia would just go from one sore topic to the next wouldn't she? "What do you mean?"

"I may have been raised under the floor, but I do know how to read people, Clarke. It's kinda written all over your face. All the time. Don't worry. No one else suspects as far as I know."

"Somehow I never imagined my—marriage," she stumbled over the word, "would be something people could ever label 'suspicious.'"

"Clarke," Octavia limped over, and put her hand on her shoulder. She had to be conscious not to shrug it off. Human contact was… "really. You need to talk to someone. If not me, then someone else. Bellamy. Your mom. _Lexa._ "

"Everything is fine. Lexa and I are fine."

"This is the ground, Clarke. Get your act together, because no one can afford a Heda or her Houmon split because one of them can't forgive herself for something that is _done._ "

"Octavia!" Clarke lashed and knocked her back, making her gasp in pain. "Whether you are Trikru or of the Ark, I am your leader. I suggest you remember that!"

Octavia grinned, still doubled over. "Perhaps Lexa is wearing off on you."

"I'm sorry. I just…" Clarke sighed.

"That wasn't meant as a bad thing. Lexa is doing her best for her people and for you. One time they didn't line up. We all regret it, but it happened, and it is gone. Nothing will change it. You two… have something. The Juliets of the new age, but you can make your story still end happily if you like."

"Thanks Octavia, but this isn't a happily ever after type of place. This is the ground."

"Just try."

Clarke ran her hand through her hair and growled, "I have been."

"So you feel nothing for her?"

"This isn't about feelings!" She slammed her hands down onto the table, making the syringes rattle.

"Yes it is."

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

"What do you want me to say!?" Clarke exploded, throwing her hands into the air. "That her very _presence_ make me feel things I can't explain?! That the only reason I can't trust her is because I can't trust myself that it's real?! Because it can't be real! That I want only want to grab her—"

"Clarke." Octavia interrupted, tapping her on the shoulder. She threw her off.

"-and kiss her senseless in front of every person in this blasted city so they will know she is mine, but I can't?!"

"Clarke."

"I can't! I can't!"

"Clarke please."

"I can't do it!"

"Clarke?" Lexa whimpered. Clarke snapped out her rage. Blood splattered across her face and gushed from somewhere in her abdomen.

"Lexa."


	7. The Hurt

This story is going in a totally different direction than I first imagined it. Let me know what you think! :)

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Clarke was frozen. No. No. No no no no no. "Clarke, help please."

"Lexa oh my god." She rushed to her, catching her just as she started to slide to the ground. "What happened? What's wrong? Lexa. Lexa." Clarke nearly shook her.

"Later. Help now." She pushed out, Octavia ran and lifted Lexa up onto the table she was just on ripping her own stitches out. She would live. The commander might not. Her breathing was shallow, and her hair was soaked with sweat. How long had she been out there?

"It's okay. You're gonna be okay." Clarke mumbled and she pressed down on her abdomen to stop the bleeding. The cloth was soaked in seconds. "Octavia get my mother. Now!" She sprinted, her own pain forgotten. "You're going to be okay, Lexa. Please be okay."

"Clarke." She wheezed. "Get your people…out of here. Generals…war. I can't stop..." Her words became more and more slurred until Clarke couldn't make out any of them.

"Shh. Don't talk. Just rest. Everything. Everything's going to be fine."

"Run. As soon…run."

"Get her out of here!" Abby bellowed, charging in, and pointing at her daughter. Clarke didn't know what to do. "I said get her out!" She would only be a hindrance in any operation, and an obstacle.

Octavia was back and tried to drag her away, but Clarke elbowed her right where she knew it would hurt the most. She screamed and jumped back. "I'm not leaving her!"

"Clarke I am doing what I can, but you cannot be in here right now." Abby didn't even look at her as she readied the surgery needle she had just used on Octavia. Jackson practically laid on top of her, the bleeding at last slowing. At least on the outside.

"Clarke…" Lexa whispered from the table, reaching her hand out. No one could tell if it was a point to the door, or a plea to stay.

"We're losing her Abby!"

"NO!" Three guards came up behind her and began to pull her away. "LEXA! LEXA!" They were too strong, and she was too erratic. Her flails did nothing to slow them as they lead her out of the infirmary, and into a back room. They wouldn't risk her being seen like this in the middle of Polis.

"You son of a bitch! Let me see her! What's happening! Lexa!" They tied her to the back wall of the closet. Her face was soaked, but she hadn't realized she had started to cry. She couldn't hear anything from the other side except a few muffled orders from her mother.

Clarke yanked on the ropes securing her until her own wrists bled, and screamed herself hoarse. What were they doing to her? Who had done this? Finally, her strength failed her and she sank to the floor, free to weep, not caring what her new guards thought of her. They would be dead by morning for doing this.

The alliance…everything had been going so well. There hadn't been so much as a drunken bar fight since the wedding other than the Azgeda queen. Who would do this? Then the scariest thought of all hit her. Her mother. Clarke was the Heda Houmon now. She would rule with the generals in the stead of whichever newborn was claimed as the new commander until they grew of age. The grounders had resources, food, labor, that the Ark needed. What better way to secure them?

She lunged for the door with renewed energy, but nothing would break her bonds. "ABBY! ABBY WHERE ARE YOU!" Her guards winced at her volume, but made no move. Her screaming did no good, and at last no sound would come out of her throat no matter how hard she tried.

The defeat made her fight even harder until she dislocated her own shoulder jumping against the wall. She would kill them. She would kill whoever did this. Her mother or not. Her father and her wife. No love was too strong for Abby to break.

"Clarke!" Abby flung open the door, jerking her head for the guards to leave them. "You saw nothing." She threatened. The men scurried out of the tiny room, back to their normal posts. "Pull yourself together." Her arms and face were splattered with red. Lexa's blood. Clarke trembled on the floor. It was too much. "She's alive." Her gaze whipped up to her mother's. It wasn't possible. So much blood. So much blood. She couldn't have survived that. "Barely, but she's alive. If she can make it through the next forty-eight hours, she will live."

"You." Clarke could hardly understand her own words coming out of her mouth. "You did this." She slowly rose to her feet, her relief turning rapidly to hatred.

"Clarke, I didn't—"

"You can't lie to me." Each word hurt and made her throat bleed with the effort.

"Clarke—"

"You killed dad and now you tried to kill Lexa."

"Don't you dare accuse me. I just saved her life."

"It wouldn't have had to be saved if—" Abby slapped her across the cheek with a ring. The weak blow was enough to set Clarke onto the floor again.

"I did no such thing! She if your wife, and therefore my daughter. If you think I would ever hurt one of my own children—"

"You had no problem murdering your own husband."

"If you ever!" Abby roared over her "try to speak to me like that again you will remember who is chancellor." She huffed. "Do you think me so diplomatically inept to assassinate the only person holding twelve armies from storming down our door, you are not so smart as I raised you to be. If you must act like a child. I will treat you like one. Until you can pull yourself together, you will stay here."

Before Clarke could do anything, Abby was gone with the door shut behind her, enclosing her in complete darkness.

Pain ran up any down her body, but she couldn't be sure if it was from her injuries or her thoughts. Perhaps both, though it was her chest that hurt the most, like it was caving in on itself.

 _Forty-eight hours._ She reminded herself. _Forty-eight hours and she will make it._ Clarke started counting off the seconds, even if she wouldn't be able to tell if the end had come.


	8. The End

Don't let the chapter title fool you, there is still more coming! As always, you likey you reviewy. You no likey you still reviewy.

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When Abby opened the door six hours twenty-three minutes and fifty-seven seconds later, the burst of sunlight nearly blinded Clarke. She lifted a canteen of water to her lips, letting her suck it down greedily. "Lexa?" Her voice was still hoarse, but at least the worst of the pain was over. She hadn't screamed since Abby had left her. It wouldn't have done any good.

"Asleep, but stable." Clarke nodded. "I don't want to treat you like this. Can I untie you?" She bobbed her head. Abby hadn't tried to kill the commander. It was clear to her now. She wouldn't attack her even if she had the strength.

She cried out in pain as she shoulder dropped. "Let me fix that."

"It can wait. I have to see her." She scrambled to her feet but fell back against the wall, hurting herself even more.

"She is unconscious, your only help can be to be there to encourage her when she wakes up. You can't do that looking like this." She helped her out of the closet into the operating room it was attached to. Lexa was still on the other side of the tiny hospital. "Bite." Abby ordered, inserting a stick between Clarke's teeth. She obeyed and squeezed her eyes shut as her mother situated her hands around her joint. "One…Two…"

Her back arched in pain for a short second until it receded, the shoulder back in place. "That trick doesn't work on me anymore." She had seen her mom do it to every kid on the Ark. Let them think she would count to three, then do it before they expected, the shock easing the pain.

"Habits." She said, wrapping a rag around her arm to use as a sling.

"I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't hurt yourself like that. I needed you away so you wouldn't interfere with the surgery. You should never have to witness a loved one like that."

"I know." Her mother had done the same thing to countless people on the Ark when one of their family members was injured. It was better for them to spend a short time in a cell than have to bear the same pain as the patient. "I meant about saying… well."

"I know." Abby sighed, brushing her daughter's frazzled hair out of her eyes. "That fear, it can make us think and say things that are not right."

Clarke pursed her lips. "I still want to find who did this." Abby let out a soft noise, agreeing with her. "Can I see her now?"

"Yes, but you have to promise me you won' do anything. Her vitals are regulating, but she lost a lot of blood and her insides, well we're not sure yet. You can't jostle her."

"I won't." Pulling aside the thin curtains that functioned as the walls between rooms, Clarke made her way down the thin corridor. All around were the coughs and whines of sick and injured grounders. Normally, she would have stopped. She would have peaked in to see if there was anything she could do to help any of them, but she only had eyes for one of the little blocked of sections.

They had moved Lexa out of the first clinic room into one of her own off to the side after the surgery. It was best not to let too many grounders see the Heda so fragile. The blood was washed from her face, and her clothes had been cleaned and piled next to her cot, replaced with a thin homespun frock.

Her tanned skin was paler than usual and her lanky. They hadn't been able to get the mix of crimson mud completely out. "She can still make it. Every minute is a better chance." Abby whispered from the doorway.

"She _will_ make it." Clarke growled more forcefully than she had intended. She vaguely registered her mother ducking her head and leaving them be.

A little rickety stool stood in the corner and Clarke pulled it over to the bedside, picking up Lexa's delicate hand. It was the same one that had perpetrated the no man's land the first night they shared the bed. The one with the so distinct fingerprint on her pinky. The memory made her smile. They would make more memories like that. They _would._

Clarke lost count of the seconds, but at least now she could see the run through a dust worn window at the top. It was dark when Bellamy came in with a goblet of wine and some bread. He didn't say anything, just left it at the foot of the cot, leaving his quiet condolences with a brief moment of eye contact before Clarke turned back to her wife.

 _Wife._ What a strange word. They hadn't even kissed since their wedding day. Everything she had ever imagined her marriage to be like, they weren't. How long had they been…together? If that was the right word. Twenty days, she realized. Not even a month, but a day short of her three weeks. When Lexa woke up, would she still want Clarke to go? The thought sent of a pang through her chest.

She must have dozed off at some point, because when she woke up, pink rays were bursting through the window. The wine and bread were gone, replaced with something like looked like turkey and a vase of water. For a fleeting moment, Clarke wondered how her mother was explaining their absence. It had been what, some thirty hours since either of them were last seen?

The thoughts quickly flew out of her head. "Clarke?" Her voice was husky, but strong, her fingers curling back into Clarke's. "You're here." Lexa smiled.

"Lexa." She nearly threw herself down on her before remembering her injures. She squeezed back her hand, her eyes wet with relief.

"You're here." She repeated.

"So are you. You're still here." Clarke looked up at the beamed ceiling, trying to stop her tears from falling, while her breath came in short shaky gasps.

"Hey." She turned back to her commander. Lexa released her fingers from her hold, bringing them up to cup her cheek, wiping away the stray water. "We're okay."

Clarke bobbed her head, unable to force her vocal cords to work. She grinned against the calloused hand still stroking subconsciously along her jaw. "How much did you hear?"

They both knew what she was talking about. "A lot." They both gulped, neither knowing how the other would react. "And you can, Clarke. I promise you, you can."


	9. The Hope

This one is for derofeba. Sorry it's so short I promise the next one is going to be extra long. Now you see that review button? Go click it!

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Lexa was released from the infirmary the day after. Returning to her duties as commander, at least the ones she could do from her throne, Clarke glued herself to her side. There was still something between them. Some paper-thin veil separating them, neither of them dared to touch. A fleeting brush of the hand, a soft look across the room, they went no further than that.

The attacker who had done this, who had taken down the commander, was brought to justice. Clarke chopped into tiny pieces herself and fed it into their hearth to warm their feet. A tree. A rotted branch in the top of an oak was enough to send Lexa down and land with a sharp rock impaling her stomach. "Indra would be horrified." The Heda chuckled to herself as they lounged on the floor by the blaze.

"Blood must have blood." Clarke smiled.

"Trees do not bleed."

"They should!" She rolled over to face her snorting wife. They were suddenly too close. She could feel her breath on her cheeks. Her lips were centimeters away. Just a little tilt of her head and…

They were rougher than she remembered, still like cushions though against her mouth. Lexa seized up, freezing for the shock to her system before relaxing and drawing her hands and Clarke's waist to pull her closer. Her hands found tangled chestnut strands, swept back like—

Clarke pulled away, slithering out of the commander's grasp. "I—no—I can't—"

"You can." Lexa moved to wrapped around her again, but Clarke inched back. She stayed where she was. "I understand." She didn't. She didn't understand, but she would try to. And it was the best thing she could say right now.

"I just—I need time, Lexa." She had had four weeks, but it wasn't enough. She didn't know if any amount of time would ever be enough.

"If you wish to go back to Arkadia, I can arrange for it. Whatever you must do, Clarke. I will not stop you."

Clarke looked down at her hands for a moment. "No." She shook her head. "I'll stay. I should stay."

"You should do what will make you happiest." She went to stroke back a piece of hair that had fallen in her face, and this time Clarke didn't pull back. "Please. Some time with your mother, Bellamy, your friends, your own people."

"Are people are one, and you are my family. I just…" She trailed off, not sure how to finish her sentence.

"Then so it shall be." She let her hand drop, the tension pushing them apart again. They were exactly as they had been the first time they had kissed, before Mount Weather.

Neither said a word for a long time as they focused their eyes onto the blaze in the hearth. Each pop and crackle made Clarke's brain switch to another memory of her lover, running over in her head. There were so many. So many she hadn't thought mattered, but each one they had been together. Each one she had felt the same pull she was feeling now, at least to some degree.

The first days after Mount Weather, even into their first week as wives, she had blamed Lexa for what she had done. Now there was no one to blame. The commander did as she would have done herself. She would have done it faster, with less thought.

She would take the weight of every soul she had killed. She could hold that, but she just wasn't sure if she could hold it and cradle Lexa at the same time. Did she even deserve to?

"There is," Lexa broke her out of her thoughts. Clarke had begun to think she had fallen asleep. "A festival of spring on the next Saturday. All thirteen clans will be there. It would be a great honor if you would come as well."

"Of course." Clarke smiled, even though she knew her wife couldn't see her. "A party would be grand."


	10. The Beginning

Okay so I decided to combine "The Ceremony" with this chapter, so if you already read that, just scroll to about halfway.

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"You are beautiful." Clarke smiled at the commander's reflection in the mirror. Her blonde hair was braided up similar to as it had been on their wedding day. The dress…Clarke had never thought she would be comfortable in something so…grounder. The skirt was lopsided, showing off legs twice as thick with muscle as they had been on the ark, and on her shoulder's was scraps of amour with a tiny flag of red, a mimic of Lexa's, flying out of it.

"Thank you." She blushed, picking at an imaginary lose thread.

"The opening ceremonies," Lexa coughed, she had spaced out, staring, "are about to start. We should go."

"Of course." Clarke made her way to exit their room, but stopped just at the door as the commander offered her her arm. She bit her lip, then took it. There would be no harm, and she couldn't den the contact gave her a tiny boost of confidence.

The crowd gathered was smaller than their wedding, but not by much. Only poorer villagers stayed behind on their farms to begin the early planting. Clarke had been expecting something boisterous. They called it a festival, shouldn't the people have been partying? Aside from small amounts of stirrings and a few whispers everyone was quiet.

They parted as Lexa and she made their way to the platform that had been set up for this occasion. The thirteen generals were already seated in order of their clan's size, Kane at the every outmost. It was an insult the chancellor could take, with Clarke at the commander's right in the center. A Houmon could not represent their clan on their own.

"KRU!" Lexa roared, though she needn't. Everyone had already had their full attention on her. "Today we celebrate the time of new birth has come!" A few people, mostly Skaikru, Clarke noticed, cheered around them. "But today we acknowledge the losses of the year past! Of the warriors gone and the warriors changed! They fought bravely and with courage to save our children and today we honor them!"

This time, no one said a word. Each general stood one by one, their seconds or servants lighting and handing them a torch. A little boy, no more than twelve, gave the last one to the commander, who placed Clarke's hands above her own. A ceremonial bowl, filled with a mix of water, tears shed, carved branches, bones broken, and green leaves, souls lost in their prime, stood at the front of the platform.

"Every person here," Lexa continued, "has lost one they have loved in the war against the mountain men." She spared a glance at Clarke, who was still staring out across the swarms of onlookers. "War is survival, but is it not easy. Today, we do not forget what has happened, but today we forgive, our neighbors, ourselves. Today, we forgive."

Kane was the first to go and place his torch into the bowl. He must have been instructed far more than Clarke had herself. He was followed by the general on the other edge, and then another, as the higher ranks started to place their fire into the chalice. The flames died at first, giving off only steam, until a few leaves caught on when he Azgeda queen let hers fall. The general after her caught a few of the intricate braches, until finally only Lexa and Clarke remained with a burning torch in their hands.

Their steps fell in sync as they half paced, half marched to their place. Clarke met Lexa's eyes, a saddest deeper than she had ever seen in the commander's face, and as one they let their hands fall. This time, without hesitation, the entire bowl went up in flame, fast enough to singe the ends of Lexa's one braid, though she didn't notice until much later.

"Today," Lexa whispered so only Clarke could hear. She must have forgotten her speech was for the whole of the gathered, not just them. "New life begins."

Clarke's forehead scrunched in trying to understand her meaning, but Lexa turned back, remembering herself, before she could decipher it. "Today!" Her voice rang in the Houmon's ears. "NEW LIFE BEGINS!"

Clarke thought she might go deaf with the screams of victory that resounded all around her. All at once, the solemnity broke and joy fiercer than she had experienced before ran through the heart of everyone present, catching like a disease.

Lexa waved her hand in a flourish, turning Clarke's attention away from the awakening pandemonium. "May I have the opening dance?"

"I may step on your feet." Clarke smirked. The infectious energy of those around her was too strong to resist. She was getting drunk on just the atmosphere.

Lexa stopped waiting and grabbed her wife's hand. "It is a risk I am willing to take." Clarke laughed, the first time she had in a long time, as she yanked her off the platform to where a bonfire was already growing.

The drums beat in a slow uniform rhythm, thirteen of them. After this there would be a dance for each of the clans, but this was for all of them, together as one. It was not so different from Unity Day.

Everyone seemed to be waiting for their Heda to make the first move. "Follow my lead." Lexa whispered into Clarke's ear, close enough to send shivers down her spine. She took her by the hand and led her out to the clearing circle around the bonfire.

She let her go, circling around so they were at opposite sides, hardly able to see each other through the flames. Slowly she heard one of the drums pick up, onto a different beat. Lexa was swaying, starting to move her feet just barely. Then another drum joined in to change the pulsing heart into real music. A sound resembling a fiddle joined in as well, chants from the crowd, and soon Lexa was waving her arms above her head, her head thrown back her entire body consumed by the beat.

Clarke was never one to dance, but she tried her best, hoping to stay on both her feet and look like she was having fun even if she was terrified of messing this up. Lexa caught her eye mid-free-laugh. Soon, she was making her way over to her side of the circle, bringing her arms in her own, twisting their bodies around in a pattern Clarke couldn't follow with her mind, but only her feet.

Until, their connection was gone, and Lexa was back where she had started the dance. Only now, Clarke didn't need her assistance to keep her body moving. It did it of its own accord. Soon they were chasing each other around the center to the whoops and cheers of everyone else, the music almost lost in their trace.

Clarke's fingers and arms twirled in a way he hadn't know they could. Her hips constantly swiveling, they were nothing compared to the experience Lexa exacted, pulling Clarke closer, only so she could rush away.

Suddenly, the beat faded out and came back much slower than it had been before, accompanied by loud and flowing strings. The song of Floukru.

Others began to join them in their little circle around the fire, and the spell broke between them. Clarke became all too aware of all the eyes on her and the size of her feet and the amount of pebbles waiting to trip her.

Lexa saw the change in her, and was at her side guiding her out of the center of attention as soon as she could. "Are you okay?" She breathed, so no one could hear.

The warmth tickled Clarke's cheek. "Yeah. Yeah, I just think those drums gave me a headache. I'll be back. Just give me a few minutes."

She didn't wait for Lexa's response, before she was already swimming through the mob of people. It was ten minutes before she could find a place quiet enough to think. The music could still be hear loud and clear, but at least all of the individual conversations lulled themselves into one solid murmur.

Clarke slid down the base of a tree trunk, not caring what it did to her dress. She was sweating from the dance, but her breathing should have calmed by now. Only it hadn't.

When the song of Sankru, a high mixing of different pipes started, Clarke rose to her feet. _Breathe in. Breathe out._ The Heda Houmon would not been seen freaking out because of one little dance.

When she got back to Lexa, she was swaying back and forth, making some idle chat with an ambassador from Sankru. Unlike her, the Heda must be present for every single clan's exhibition, though most clans sent out their most skilled dancers to show off, saving her from expending too much energy.

Clarke tapped the ambassador on the shoulder just as the pipes faded out. This would be the last one of the night. How long had she been gone? Already, the stars were out in their full force. "May I have this dance?" She inquired. The Sankru ducked her head and scampered.

Clarke didn't know if Lexa's blush was from the bonfire, or the fact that she had asked her to dance. "I thought you had gone to bed." The grounders seemed to be fleeing the dance floor. The Ark's musicians began their slow waltz, none of them knew it.

"I told you I would be back." Clarke snaked her arm around the back of her waist, grabbing her the fingers of her other hand in her own.

She took a step backwards, forcing her wife to follow. "Your headache?"

"It's better now."

They didn't speak again as Clarke lead them in swirls around the fire. Only a few other couples, mostly those from the Ark, stayed around them, but she gave them no bother. She focused on the green irises in front of her. Leksa kom Trikru. She smiled once she was finally sure she made her blush. This dance was not rigorous enough nor the fire hot enough for her cheeks to be so pink.

Before she could register it, the miniature orchestra was coming to its close, the music swelling up around them, until it faded out on its last note.

She pulled Lexa closer to her, the girl following willingly. " _Ai hod yu in_." Clarke sighed, laying her head on the commander's shoulder.

" _Yu seintaim._ " Lexa nuzzled her hair, her stomach telling her to fly away, but her heart so totally calm. "Wait!" She jumped back, holding her Houmon at arm's length. "When—"

"Well what do you think I've been doing in the infirmary for the past month when half this city doesn't speak English?" Clarke giggled at the commander's bewildered look.

Understanding slowly leaked in until Lexa laughed hard enough all of Polis could hear her. Then there was only one thing Klark kom Skaikru could do to save the burning ears of the city. Press her lips to her wife's and never let go.

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This is the last of them. Thank you to all my readers, and please let me know your thoughts in the reviews. I love hearing from you!


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